


Marbles

by Akumokagetsu



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Bara Sans, Drinking, Drugs, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Frisk Has Issues, Main Character Has Issues, Racism, Sans Has Issues, Short Reader, Slow Burn, it's gonna get weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 10:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13052247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumokagetsu/pseuds/Akumokagetsu
Summary: Sarah lives an ordinary life in Ebott City.At least, as ordinary as one can be with terrifying monsters lurking around every corner now that some maniac let them all out from underneath the mountain. Monsters are just nightmarish creatures, right?Monsters like the big skeleton one.ESPECIALLY the skeleton.





	Marbles

0-0-0-0-0

 

Maybe, just maybe, someday I could make it out of this shithole of a city.

 

The alarm blared obnoxiously in a klaxon repeating pattern and I covered my head with a pillow, hiding a groan into my sheets. Not like anyone would hear it, or care if they did. I let out a quiet sigh and fumbled for my phone without looking, knocking it to the floor. The old flip phone was shut off as I mashed buttons in a half stupor, rubbing my face a few times as I brushed tussled hair from my eyes. The sun was already going down and I'd hardly slept at all. As per usual, but some sleep was better than no sleep. It was an improvement, at least. I was exhausted, but that was no excuse to miss work. Not for me, anyway. I needed the money, rent was coming up soon and I really didn't want to have to put up with another angry, slightly psychopathic rant from the landlord. So I swallowed my pride, dug into my savings jar under the bed, and neatly folded out the rent money that I would need to give him.

 

_Still not enough._

 

Maybe tonight would be the night that I made a load of tips, but I doubted it. I pushed the thought to the back of my mind and forced a little smile as I stood in front of the mirror, trying not to cringe. I looked like a brick of hammered shit. I washed my face roughly, which did nothing to clear away the exhaustion lines under my eyes, but at least makeup was an option before I headed out. I grabbed a cold shower to jar myself awake and was clean and out in a matter of minutes, still shivering with clattering teeth as I dried and dressed, pulling my hair up into a tight bun. I snagged my jeans and the first shirt I saw wouldn't do. No, according to my boss conservatively dressed ladies didn't 'bring in enough dough' and I stared down at disdain at the revealing blouse in my hands. I hated the idea of eyes lingering on me when I was trying to work, but if it meant that I could scrape in a couple of extra bucks I couldn't deny that he had a point. So once again, I swallowed my pride and slipped it on, giving myself a once over in front of the bathroom mirror.

 

Frizzy, almost unkempt hair. Listless, cloudy green eyes, a little pointed nose and too much makeup. I physically _flinched_ at seeing my reflection. God, I looked just like my mom used to coming home in the early mornings completely dead on her feet, begging and pleading with me not to follow the same path as she did, stay in school, follow my dreams. I had been so bright eyed and bushy tailed. Now I just looked... sad.

_Way to let her down, Sarah._

 

I snagged my purse and locked the apartment door behind me quietly, silently praying to whoever would listen that Mr. Weathersby hadn't heard. Sure enough I heard the jangling of keys and raspy coughing down the hall and I bolted for it, thankful that I hadn't decided to try to pull off heels tonight. I slipped down the stairwell just as I heard him coming and fought to keep my expression clear as I took the steps two at a time. I would have the money for him tonight, I _would._ I just couldn't face him without having enough again. Not just because I was afraid that he might lock me out of my own apartment if I was short again, but because trying to see him eye to eye was unnerving, and I really didn't need that before work. So I brushed the thoughts off and made my way through the lobby, stuffing my hands into my tattered jacket that I wrapped around myself tightly to ward off the evening chill.

 

Ebott city was beautiful.

Or at least, I had thought so, once, long ago. I used to look up to the towering buildings and hear the rushing of traffic and think that it was all very incredible. I guess that wore off pretty quickly after reality firmly planted her boot up my ass. Now I saw every dark alley as a potential danger zone, every seedy establishment as yet another venue for the lifeless eyes of people struggling just to get by. It wasn't a glamorous section of town at all, not with all of the run down shops and crumbling buildings, but the place had really improved over the last two years. Or more specifically, ever since monsters had been allowed to live there.

 

I pursed my lips tightly as I waited under the awning for the bus, hands in my jacket as I stared across the street at a two headed dragonlike monster getting yelled at by some old woman. One of the heads looked pleadingly at me, almost like he was silently asking for help. And instead I did worse than nothing. I just turned my head down and shifted away, awkwardly reaching for a cigarette in my inner pocket and lighting it against the wind. I could _feel_ his stare on my back and the guilt crawled into my chest. He hadn't done anything wrong to me. Hell, I didn't even know him, for all I knew he could be a really nice guy, and I just... ignored him. Maybe it was the discomfort at knowing what a crap basket of a person I was being, but I did turn back to face him, summoning up my courage to march over and find out what the fuss was before my bus arrived.

 

All of my pseudo courage vanished the moment that I realized he wasn't there anymore. Just the old woman dusting her hands and loudly proclaiming some very rude and implicative things about the monster to a couple of passersby holding out phones to record the incident. I shoved my hands into my pockets and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I hadn't even _tried_ to help, I already knew how bad human and monster relations were in Ebott. It was people like me that were making things worse, people that just stood by and watched. But I guess wanting to help and _actually_ helping are two completely different things. See something, say something, right? I promised to myself that next time I really would.

Just like the time before that.

And the time before that.

I sighed quietly, putting out my half finished cigarette.

 

Going to work feeling like a scumbag was just _oodles_ of fun.

I was so frustrated with myself that I hardly even realized that the bus was nearly fifteen minutes late, meaning that my boss was going to be all over my hairless ass, but the bitterness in my chest took up the majority of my thoughts. The greasy bus driver gave me a withering glare that I _dared_ enter his vehicle after paying, but I kept my head down. I didn't want a fight. I can't stand confrontations. He glowered at me the whole time I made my way back to my usual seat, and I stumbled when the bus jerked forward, thumping my chest hard on the edge of a seat with a very unladylike grunt and a plethora of (partially) muttered expletives. To my surprise I felt a warm hand on my forearm to help me stand, and when I looked down to said hand my brain promptly shut down.

 

It was skeletal – literally, just a skeleton's hand – chalky white bone clasped loosely over my arm, and I did what I usually do in situations I'm not comfortable with. I panicked. I yanked my hand to my chest and struggled to take in the sight of the skeleton sitting in _my_ seat, I swear my brain could have turned to strawberry gelatin and I would have been none the wiser. I took in the sight of his face first, and was again surprised to see that the skeleton actually looked _hurt_ for a moment, but his face was quickly covered by a wide, toothy grin. _Very_ toothy. His teeth looked to all be filed to a razor point, including the couple of gold replacement teeth that shone with an unearthly sheen in the passing night lights. He appeared to be sweating a bit ( _how does a skeleton sweat?_ ) and his eye sockets weren't empty as I'd expected a skeleton to be; instead, there were pinpricks of red dancing in his eye sockets, flickering almost like little fires that watched me with a burning intensity, it made a small shiver go up my spine. It didn't help that the guy was big. All monsters that I'd seen were pretty large, but this guy was... _hefty._ Large stomach, barrel chest, thick arms under his huge black coat with stained yellow fur curling around the sleeves and hood. It took me a full beat to realize that I was staring at him, and he definitely noticed.

 

“Take a picture,” he grinned at me with an animalistic smile, eye sockets narrowing just a bit. His voice was deep and baritone, rumbling like thunder from inside him. “It'll last longer.”

My face flushed awkwardly and I tried to tell him that he was in my seat but it just came out in a flustered stammer and I clacked my mouth shut before turning away and sitting in the seat opposite him. I saw the bus driver's sharp eyes in the mirror as he watched me, almost like he was inspecting me and gauging my reaction. I didn't bother looking at either of them, instead ignoring the teenager bobbing his head to music playing in headphones in the seat ahead of me. I focused entirely on the back of the seat, tense and pulling my arms into my sleeves as I waited. My stop wasn't far away, only about twenty minutes. I resisted the urge to get a better look at the skeletal monster, keeping my eyes solely straight ahead. I heard some kind of grunt from the seat next to me and ignored it. I hopped off the bus at my stop and didn't look at anyone as I left.

 

The run down bar that I waitressed at wasn't much to look at inside or out, but it paid. Minimally, but a paycheck was a paycheck. I let out one last sigh as I looked back at the leaving bus, wondering if those odd red eyes were still looking back. I shivered and insisted that it was just from the cold before pulling my jacket a bit closer and heading in to do the same thing over and over again.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

It wasn't much of a busy night, I received catcalls and got my ass slapped more than I got tips, leaving me equally frustrated and burned out as I stood beneath the awning at the bus stop. The morning sun hadn't even begun to rise yet, but my eyes weren't on the horizon. A puff of smoke erupted from between my lips as I stared up at the broiling gray sky, and I resisted the urge to rub my eyes as it would probably just smear the makeup, but I really didn't care. I could hear the telltale sound of police sirens in the distance and wondered who died this time. My mind fluttered back to that two headed dragonesque monster that I had seen and guilt swam through me unbidden. I didn't even know him, why was I getting worked up about it? Just another thing to be anxious about, I could push it to the back of my mind and pretend that it didn't bother me that he might not be alive anymore. I'd been to so many funerals this year alone. God I hated this place. Maybe one day I would finally have enough money to get out of this wretched city. Or at the very least out of the slums, into a place that wasn't falling apart. Maybe I could save up enough to live in a quiet little place in the countryside where I didn't have to worry about carrying a switchblade on me at all times. I would think that after the last world war people would band together in some stupidly optimistic ideal for collective betterment, but I guess pipe dreams just exist for dumb girls like me to waste time on.

 

I choked on the stub of the cigarette and coughed, immediately feeling panic as I felt those grubby thick fingers around my throat and _don't think about it don't think about it-_

Christ, I couldn't even cough anymore without thinking about _that_ , but I wasn't going to let it get me down. Not anymore. I had things to do, a life to live, and screw anyone that told me I couldn't. I thought to the sparse collection of bills under my bed that I owed Mister Weathersby. I almost had enough. Maybe if I gave him everything that I had he wouldn't be pissed about it being late again, but I wasn't going to get my hopes up. I would get bills paid, one way or another. I really should have considered myself fortunate that I even had a place to stay at all, even if it was a ramshackle little crumbling dump, it was better than being on the street again. I drew my jacket a little tighter around myself to ward off the memories, watching as the bus arrived late (as per usual) and sticking my hands into my pockets while wishing that I had some gloves to keep warm.

 

I dropped my money into the till and gave the greasy bus driver a nod and he _leered_ at me with that broken toothed glare, like he was daring me to speak up, but I didn't bother. I just wound my way down the aisle while keeping my hands on the seats to avoid the expected jerk of the bus and didn't trip this time. God I was glad I hadn't worn heels. I made my way back to my seat and, surprise surprise, there again was the skeleton. Monster. Thing. Skeleton monster.

 

I stared down at the sleeping figure, his chin on his chest and hands in his coat pockets, and I marveled momentarily how someone's eye sockets could even close. My first assumption was that perhaps skeleton monsters were biologically predisposed to allowing for more malleable genetic makeup before the 'oh duh, magic' response took over. I frowned a bit at that. It seemed that monsters, being made of magic, all had these amazing differences between them that differentiated them from each other, I'd never seen two look exactly alike. It was fascinating, in a horrifying 'I might get killed' kind of intrigue. You know, that stupid little part of your brain that waits until you're on the edge of a cliff to whisper _you can fly!_

Ignorant optimism. I wasn't going to fall down that hole again. Not ever, ever again.

I was discomforted to see that the skeleton had deep lines under his eye sockets. I could relate. Maybe he worked a night shift too? I had never seen him on this bus before. I didn't think that I had ever even seen a skeleton monster before. Human skeletons, sure. This guy definitely wasn't human.

 

I jolted hard when I realized that one of his eye sockets was open and completely black, his shark like grin so wide that I was surprised it didn't break his face.

“Heya, doll,” he throatily rasped at me and I awkwardly hid my embarrassment at being caught staring. Again. I took the seat opposite him and did my best to ignore the stares from other passengers, pulling the collar of my jacket up to hide my burning cheeks. I just stared at the back of the seat in front of me, waiting until it was time for my stop. It was an odd coincidence that he had been in my seat again, but I pushed that thought to the back of my mind too. If it riled up again tonight I could just drown it in whiskey until I could sleep again. I always had the worst habit of overthinking things until it overwhelmed me.

“My name's not doll,” I muttered more to myself, but he seemed to hear over the roar of the bus regardless. I heard that weird, rumbling chuckle again and resisted the urge to shiver. He didn't seem to say anything else after that, or if he did I was too absorbed in my own thoughts to notice. He got off just before I did and I was thankful to see him go, it meant that I could have my precious seat back.

 

Instead I just stared at where he had been, thinking. Hell, I didn't even _want_ the seat that badly. I wondered about it all the way back home.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

The next night I got on the bus before he did. I stood beside the seat in contemplation, frowning, hands stuffed deep into my pockets. I could take the seat and see how he would react... but he was so _huge._ What if he got angry? I was barely over half his height, already being a staggering four foot nine. And his teeth were filed to a needle point. If he wanted to he could probably rip me apart for the inconvenience. I shuddered at the idea, remembering those smoldering red eyes burning as he stared at me, almost like he was _looking into me_ -

I decidedly thought against it and sat in the seat across from the one I was usually in, keeping my head down and waiting. There was an old woman in front of me that smelled like cat food and rotting cabbage. I wrinkled my nose silently and stared out the window for a while, waiting until it was my turn to hop off and head back to work.

 

Apparently I was so distracted that I hadn't even realized that the skeleton had gotten on. I jumped a little when I saw him sitting in the seat opposite me, his large frame taking up almost the entire bench. How did someone that large make so little noise? Just another thought to keep me awake at night I supposed. I awkwardly ran a hand through my messy hair, pulling a band from my pocket to keep it up. I glanced over at him again and tried to clear my throat to speak, but nothing came out. He was watching me the entire time, my mouth opening and closing, and I instantly turned away out the window. It wasn't my fault, probably. He was just _terrifying_. Feeling those burning eyes ( _eye lights?_ ) on me was unnerving. I expected him to be giving me some kind of predatory smirk when I turned back around to try again, but my nerve left me completely when I saw that he was already asleep. I sighed and shook my head, pretending that I didn't see the expression on his face. He looked even more tired than before, and I vaguely wondered if he had trouble sleeping from the lines under his eye sockets.

He just looked...

Sad.

 

I felt a familiar pang in my chest as I forced my gaze to the gum covered seat in front of me, tightening my lips to keep from saying something stupid. It didn't matter. He was just some random guy who took my seat. I wasn't angry at myself, I was angry that he took my favorite spot. That was all. I insisted this to myself the entire way to Donald's pub, but I did spare one last look at the monster before I got off. I must have been staring for a moment too long because I heard the bus driver mutter foully before I got off.

“Keep away from them fuckin' _freaks_ , girlie,” he whispered none too quietly. I swear everyone on the bus must have heard. My face flushed and I felt a roar of anger in my stomach, which I quashed as quickly as possible as I stomped off the bus, making sure to flip him the bird as I went. He swore at me and the bus jolted and juttered down the street, smog belching out of the exhaust pipe. This time I was _certain_ of it when I saw those twin pairs of red lights staring out the window, almost like I had surprised him. Those vibrant red eyes were in my thoughts all night long, though for what reason I really wasn't certain I wanted the answer to.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

I followed the same routine for a while.

Honestly, it was almost comfortable. Almost.

 

I would get on and off before him, I would watch him come and he would watch me go. It must have been over a week and a half before I finally shoveled up the courage to speak to him.

“Sarah.”  
“Whuzzat?” he blinked ( _skeletons can blink?_ ) distractedly. I just stood in the aisle of the moving bus, ignoring the complaint from the driver about my idiocy, but the bust trundled along regardless. “You say somethin', doll?”  
“My name isn't doll,” my voice came out more clipped than I meant it to. “It's Sarah. And you're in my seat.”  
_Fuck fuck fuck that's not what I meant to say-_

 

He seemed to realize my distress as he just leaned back and laughed that deep, rumbling baritone.

“Is that what's got ya so bothered?” he wiped a false tear from his eye socket with a grin. “Shit, why didn't ya just say so? I'll move, fuhgeddaboudit. I mean, I get it. Don't wanna rile up the freaks, amirite-?” he was saying as he was starting to stand, but I just held up a palm to him and took in a shaky breath.

“Actually, I-I was wondering,” I was stammering again at this point and I _hated_ feeling so embarrassed. “If – I mean, if you'd mind if I... sat with you?”

The skeleton didn't speak. His eye lights dimmed a bit and his smile seemed to freeze to his face, and for a long moment I wondered if I had said something wrong. I started to apologize awkwardly before he chortled and shook his head, scooting a bit toward the window to make room for me.

 

“... Sans.”

“Beg your pardon?” I asked quietly, hardly believing myself as I carefully slid into the seat beside him.

“M'name,” he shrugged. “I mean, ya told me yours, doll, so I figured s' only polite. The name's Sans,” he introduced himself with a wide, toothy smile. Those golden false teeth of his glinted brightly and I forced myself to look away, giving a little smile of my own. And for once, it wasn't a pained, forced smile, it felt just a bit more natural.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Sans,” I held my trembling hands tightly in my lap and prayed that he didn't notice.

“Just Sans,” he said without looking at me. He pulled his coat up a little bit and I caught a strong whiff of... mustard? It was so intense that I wrinkled my nose out of habit. I expected him to smell of blood or corpses or... literally anything else. It threw me off. “So what about you?”  
“Just Sarah,” I wasn't too keen on giving him my last name. Or anyone, for that matter, but I didn't want to think about that.

 

Our short lived conversation ended there, settling into an awkward silence. Silence I could live with. Silence was manageable. I could deal with silence.

It was uneasy, tense conversation that bothered me, and it felt like he wasn't in much of a chatting mood, so I sat quietly until it was time for me to get off. I mumbled a quiet goodbye to him when he seemed to be asleep, but again he surprised me by cracking open an eye socket and giving a goodbye of his own with a grin.

And a thumbs up.

An actual thumbs up.

 

I had to fight to keep from snickering, I had no idea why that got to me. I mean, who does that? It's so _cheesy_. He just looked so... _happy_ that I couldn't let him down. So I did the best thing I could in that situation and doubled down, sticking out my arms and giving him a double thumbs up as I walked backwards, and was greeted by the _dopiest_ looking grin I'd ever seen from anyone, let alone a skeleton. Unfortunately since I wasn't looking where I was going I tripped over something suspiciously foot-shaped and watched as his smile vanished in an instant. I coughed conspicuously into my hand and straightened myself, feeling as if I had just made an ass of myself in public and shuffled off of the bus, ignoring the whispers of the bus driver once more.

Tonight I wasn't really all that bothered by getting felt up by drunk guys.

For once in a very, very long time, I actually looked forward to something.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

We met on the bus at every opportunity after that.

 

It was almost two weeks before I finally started to become comfortable sitting beside him, but after that... strangely enough, the thought of sitting alone again didn't seem too appealing. We still hardly spoke, but it was less of an awkward quiet and more of a companionable silence. At least, I thought so. He seemed to smile a bit wider whenever I sat beside him, and those razor sharp teeth didn't seem quite as intimidating as they did weeks prior. Of course, they were still terrifying, he looked like he could give a great white shark nightmares, but I didn't say that out loud. Instead we asked each other questions to pass the time, neither of us being too loud. In the beginning he mostly slept, but as time passed it felt like he was spending more and more time awake, regardless of how tired he looked.

 

“You like it where you work, Sarah plain and short?” Sans eventually asked in a low tone, staring out the window.

“Not in the slightest,” I ignored the jab at my height and answered with a sardonic grin and I saw in his reflection that his smile was stretched a bit, almost pained. “So what about you?” I tried to change the subject quickly. “You take the bus to work, too?”

“Sure,” he answered noncommittally. I frowned and the little voice in my head told me that it was a bad idea to pry, that it was rude and that I didn't even deserve to know, but over the past couple of weeks it was getting easier to ignore that.

“So... where do you work?” I asked quietly. “Do you have a job somewhere?”  
“Yeah. I, uh... work at a... _college_ ,” he said without looking at me. I blinked in surprise.

“Holy shit, that's _awesome,_ ” I perked up a little and just a teeny bit jealous. “I thought that monsters were still fighting for civil rights and you're already in a college? That's great!”

“Yep,” he shrugged, still not meeting my gaze. That was... odd. Wasn't he happy about it? The smile seemed almost plastered to his face, and a wave of recognition hit me when I realized just how forced it was. I dropped the subject immediately, rubbing the back of my neck and staring ahead at the seat in front of me.

 

“I never see you on Sundays,” I tried to swerve the conversation in a more comfortable topic. “Only day I have off. Do you work then, too?”

“Nah,” he shrugged once, actually meeting my gaze. “Gotta have a day to recuperate, y'know?”  
“Tell me about it,” I laughed awkwardly, thankful that the pained look was gone from him at last. “I keep hearing 'thank god it's Friday', but if there were one that cared he'd make every day Sunday.”  
Sans laughed at that, shaking his head.  
“Guess you're not the religious type, huh.”  
“I was raised Catholic.”

“So you are?”

“I haven't believed in god since I was old enough to think for myself.”  
“Spoken like a true Catholic.”

 

We just stared at each other for a moment before we both burst into quiet giggles. It was bizarrely disarming to see such a gargantuan creature _giggling_ like a schoolgirl, hiding his mouth behind his phalanges. I didn't even care about the filthy looks that I was getting from the usual hoodie toting teenager. I felt... _good._ I couldn't even remember the last time I had laughed like that. My heart sank, and I swear I nearly felt it in the pit of my stomach when the bus pulled to a halt.

“Here's my stop,” I couldn't keep the frown off my face. “Hey, so-”

“Are you doing anything Sunday?”

I froze, the question that had been on my lips out of his mouth at the same time it left mine. We both just kind of stared at each other for a moment before I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly.

 

“I mean, I don't wanna take up your time-”

“Are ya getting off the bus or _not_ ya bloody bint?!” I heard a shout from the front of the bus and cringed, knowing that the driver was probably going to be giving me the stink eye again. Sans's face darkened for a moment but the next he was all smiles again.

“Fuhgeddaboudit,” he gave me that toothy grin once more. “Hey, Sarah, you... wanna go out for drinks?”  
_On a Sunday?_

“It's a date,” I smiled at him. Just watching his face light up was... strange. It was like he was just _radiating_ from the inside, his eye sockets crinkling and his smile growing just a bit wider, but not in that stretched, forced kind of way. It looked genuine, he just seemed so... _happy_. It lit a little fire in me that made my own smile feel a little warmer.

“ _Fer fuck's sake woman-!_ ” I heard the bus driver yell as the vehicle jolted forward.

“Alright, alright!” I yelped as I darted to the front of the bus, not listening to the litany of cursing that came from the greasy old man. I had a spring in my step all the way to Donald's, the dull little bar almost lifeless at this time of evening, but soon enough it would be full again, and I was already loathing it, but it wouldn't get me down.

I looked forward to seeing those glowing crimson eyes again, that wide, relieved smile whenever I came back. I looked forward to hearing that deep, coarse laugh again. But most of all, I looked forward to getting completely and utterly shitfaced with a total stranger. A  _monster_ , at that. And god help me I was looking forward to it.

 

Maybe, just maybe, I was beginning to totally lose my marbles.

 

0-0-0-0-0

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I might continue the story if anyone actually likes it.


End file.
